Repercussions
by xx'Gothic-Manga-Girl'xx
Summary: A covered up conspiracy, an old friend turned vigilante, the chance of war hanging in the balance and the four lovers who must set everything straight before it's too late. Or before it can tear them apart... AU of "The Good Soldier" S1E4. OT4 (Athos/Porthos/Aramis/D'Artagnan) M/M/M/M (Don't like slash? Don't read.)


**Hello all! So I started this fic something like a year ago and never got around to finishing it until now but I'm so glad I did! I love The Musketeers (really I love a lot of BBC's stuff) and I'm really looking forward to Season 3. (Have you guys seen the pictures from it? Athos has got some awesome hair on him this year.) Nothing against Constance- she's a lovely lady- but my OTP in The Musketeers is the OT4!**

 **I was watching "The Good Soldier" when the idea to remake the episode with OT4 as canon struck me. It's such a good episode, it's one of my favorites from Season 1. Pretty much all of the dialogue is the exact dialogue from the episode (lord was it painstaking to get it all correct) but for the parts that I added or changed the dialogue was all my creation.**

 **Disclaimer:** **I don't own The Musketeers or any of its characters.**

* * *

"Care to tell me what's going on?"

D'Artagnan held his pistol out in front of him as he advanced on Aramis and the man he held against a pillar. For a moment he saw panic fill Aramis' dark eyes but it quickly faded as the young Gascon closed the space between them, still keeping his weapon trained on the man behind him.

"D'Artagnan this is Marsac, he's... an old friend."

One slim dark eyebrow rose doubtfully, his pistol never wavering from its target, "An old friend? An old friend who just tried to kill the Duke of Savoy."

Aramis sighed and glanced over his shoulder at Marsac who was watching them warily from the pillar, "Hear him out. Marsac was one of the best soldiers in the regiment."

"He's a Musketeer?!" D'Artagnan stared at him dubiously, obviously doubting his words.

"He _was._ "

As Aramis approached him Marsac began to plead his case, "We were brothers once... For the sake of our old friendship let me prove what I _know!_ "

Aramis glanced at d'Artagnan and signalled for them to move a little ways away from Marsac, "I need you to keep quiet about this for now."

Brown doe eyes widened in disbelief, "Have you gone mad?"

The older man inclined his head, "Possibly. But... I owe him my life."

D'Artagnan frowned, troubled at the thought of having to hide this information from Athos and Porthos.

Aramis took one of the younger man's hands in his own and gazed beseechingly into his eyes, "D'Artagnan, please, for me?"

D'Artagnan sighed- unable to resist Aramis' charms- but levelled him with a very Athos-like look, "If this gets me hanged I'm going to take it _very_ personally."

Aramis smiled and pressed a kiss to the young man's knuckles gratefully.

D'Artagnan brought them to the Bonacieuxs' house and managed to convince Constance to allow Marsac to stay by telling her the man was but a harmless carpenter, rather than the deserter and assassin that he truly was. D'Artagnan felt horrible about deceiving her but knew that it was necessary in order to keep Marsac hidden for the time being.

After they tied up Marsac in d'Artagnan's room, he and Aramis went out to the well where Aramis shared the story of what had occurred in Savoy, ending the tale by insisting that he didn't think of Marsac as a deserter even now. The man had saved his life after all.

The young man gazed up at the Spaniard worriedly, seeing the sadness that recounting the tale had brought to his eyes, and took one of his hands gently in his own. The older man watched quietly as d'Artagnan intertwined their fingers, d'Artagnan's smaller more slender fingers slotting between his own nimble and battle-roughened ones, and a small smile lifted his lips at the boy's sweet attempt at cheering him up.

"Thank you, d'Artagnan. I'm sorry to have put you in such a situation..." He brought his free hand up and caressed d'Artagnan's cheek, his smile growing when the boy instinctively leaned into the touch.

The Gascon sighed and gave the older man a little half-smile, "I can see how much this means to you Aramis. And I guess I do owe Marsac for saving your life back then; if he had not I probably would never have met you or Athos and Porthos and that is something I can't imagine."

Aramis grinned and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of d'Artagnan's head, "Thank you _cariño_. Well we'd best be getting back to the garrison, we can't leave Athos and Porthos to face the Captain's wrath alone now can we?"

D'Artagnan laughed though inside he was dreading returning to the garrison not only in fear of the Captain's wrath but also because he was sure that once Athos and Porthos saw them it would only be a matter of time before they figured out that he and Aramis were hiding something from them. And it would undoubtedly take even _less_ time for them to drag it out of him, for he had already stated that he wasn't fond of the idea of lying to his other lovers and was fairly certain that once confronted he wouldn't be able keep the secret for long despite his promise to Aramis.

* * *

Captain Treville stormed into his office with the three Musketeers and their young companion trailing after him, _"How in God's name did he escape?!"_

Athos solemnly stated, "We lost him in the grounds."

Aramis added, a tad nervously, "He just uh... got away."

Treville sighed and rested both his hands on top of his desk, directing his gaze at the youngest member of the group, "Didn't you see him either?"

D'Artagnan startled a bit and stuttered, "I um... slipped."

"You _slipped_?" The Captain's voice was deceptively calm and it made the young man shift nervously.

"Wet grass." He offered by way of explanation, all too aware of Athos' gaze boring into the side of his head.

As he spoke the Captain came around his desk until he stood almost toe-to-toe with d'Artagnan, "There's a killer on the loose. And the security of the nation hangs by a thread. But at least little d'Artagnan didn't get a nasty bruise."

The man then pinned him with a hard, frustrated look that made the boy sullenly stare down at his boots, ashamed that he had disappointed the older Gascon. He shot Aramis a look; his lover inclined his head subtly in apology.

Treville continued, "Athos, Porthos report to the palace in the morning. As long as the Duke is in France, his safety is now your responsibility. And _be vigilant._ The assassin is still out there somewhere."

The four men quickly exited the room once their Captain finished speaking; Treville was a kind and fair man but no one wanted to be left alone with him when he was already irritated.

Once out in the courtyard d'Artagnan and Aramis tried to slip out of the garrison and made it to the gates just as Porthos called after them, causing them to freeze.

Athos gazed directly at Aramis, "You're hiding something."

It was a statement, not a question; Athos was never one to beat around the bush. He _knew_ that there was something going on, d'Artagnan was young and inexperienced but even he wouldn't have let something as trivial as a little wet grass stop him in his search for the assassin. And Aramis... well for all of the medic's charm and wit, Athos had always found him very easy to read when he was nervous.

Aramis forced a light chuckle, "No idea what you mean."

Not acknowledging the obvious lie Athos swiftly turned his gaze to d'Artagnan, "You too. What is it?"

D'Artagnan knew they were caught and saw no need to continue the charade any further and glanced at Aramis apologetically, "If you don't tell them, I will."

Porthos groaned from behind Aramis, "Tell us _what?"_

* * *

Aramis begrudgingly told them about Marsac, the man's discovery that the Duke of Savoy had supposedly been behind the attack on their group of Musketeers five years ago and his subsequent attempt at assassinating the Duke that morning.

And just as d'Artagnan had predicted, Athos was _furious_.

He growled angrily at both of them the entire way to the Bonacieuxs' house to collect the would-be assassin saying that they'd been reckless and stupid for leaving a criminal and deserter in the middle of the town, unguarded. Porthos remained a stony silent presence next to them, not entirely pleased with them either but not as riled up as Athos.

D'Artagnan took his eldest lover's scolding quietly as they strode through the cobbled streets, knowing he deserved it.

It got worse for the young Gascon when the time came that they had to tell Constance about Marsac's true identity. The spitfire woman- who had become his closest friend outside the Musketeers- had immediately declared that d'Artagnan was no longer to stay in her house for betraying her trust. Though he found it a tad unfair- she hadn't cast Marsac out after all- he truly didn't blame her; she'd taken him into her home and treated him like family and he'd repaid her kindness by lying to her and bringing a very dangerous man into her home without her knowledge.

Once Constance had left the house, slamming the door angrily behind her, the five men were left alone.

Aramis comforted the youngest, assuring him that Constance just needed a little time to cool down but that she would surely forgive him.

When he asked how long that would take Porthos chuckled, "A decade or two, maybe."

"Have you both completely lost your minds?"

Marsac scoffed at Athos' words and dryly commented, "Perhaps Athos doesn't care about twenty dead Musketeers?"

"Insulting the man who holds your life in his hands. I see that you're a fool as well as coward."

The scruffy blonde shot out of his chair, putting Athos, Porthos and d'Artagnan on the defensive.

Aramis was quick to put himself between his old friend and his lover, "Just hear him out. If you're not satisfied... we'll do whatever you suggest."

Marsac spoke up, "There's somebody you should speak to first."

* * *

He brought them to the cellar of an abandoned building where they were met with a man chained up against a column.

"I found him in a bar, drunk and bragging about killing Musketeers."

Before any of them could say anything Marsac began savagely punching the man, shouting, "Tell them! Tell them what you told me."

D'Artagnan quickly raised his hands soothingly, sending his lovers a concerned glance, "Easy... He can't talk if he's out cold."

Marsac reluctantly let the man go and he started to speak, "I was a soldier in the pay of the Duke of Savoy. At Easter, five years ago, he told us the French had to kill him and put his son in his place."

Aramis stepped forward, "Go on."

The prisoner groaned, shifting uselessly in the shackles, "We rode out on Good Friday. Slaughtered the Musketeers as they slept. They were snoozing like babies when we crept into their tents-"

Marsac attacked him again, "They were my _friends!_ "

Athos grabbed him by his shirt as the man called out, "No, wait! Wait! I'll tell you who gave the Duke his information. I overheard him and his Chancellor, Cluzet, discussing his name. We knew where you were camped. We were tipped off."

Aramis' heart pounded, "What name did you hear? Who betrayed the Musketeers?"

"Treville. It- It was a Captain Treville."

Marsac stepped forward, "Treville? Well it makes sense, and every man has his price."

Porthos snarled, moving towards the blonde, "You take that back!"

Athos quickly stopped the larger man, "Gentlemen! Come on."

He inclined his head, indicating for the four of them to move off to the side where they could speak privately, leaving Marsac and the prisoner alone.

D'Artagnan frowned disbelievingly, "The Captain? Really, the Captain? A traitor who organized the murder of his own men? Impossible."

Porthos agreed, "Well, he's lying."

Aramis shook his head, "How did the Duke find us so easily? Someone had to tell him. Someone who knew our orders. It was Treville who issued them."

The lovers continued debating the new information they'd been given, entirely unaware of the two men behind them.

D'Artagnan sighed, "He's obviously heard Treville's name somewhere."

Porthos growled, "He'd say anything to save his own skin."

Athos nodded, "I agree. There must be some other explanation."

Suddenly loud gasps drew their attention and they turned around to find Marsac at the prisoner again, this time with his hands clenched tightly around his throat.

Athos and Porthos were quick to shove him away but when d'Artagnan checked on the man it was already too late.

He threw up his hands in exasperation, "He's dead."

The young Gascon gazed down at Marsac and found himself feeling grateful that Aramis had not turned out like he had after what happened five years ago. Where Marsac had lost himself and had given up his old life, Aramis had found a new strength and had become a fine Musketeer whom the friends he had lost that night would undoubtedly have been proud of.

But now because of Marsac they had just lost their only lead and were left with only confusion.

Could the Captain truly be involved in this?

* * *

The five men walked down the cobbled street, all of them mulling over the recent information.

D'Artagnan was vehement, "Treville is a patriot, a man of honor. The charges against him are ridiculous."

Athos laid a comforting hand on the young man's shoulder, "We heard accusations, not proof."

From behind Marsac said, "Then we'll find proof."

"There's no 'we' here."

D'Artagnan muffled a soft laugh at Porthos' gravelly words and shot of fond look over his shoulder at the large man. His lover caught the look and sent him a broad smile and a playful wink in return.

Despite the rebuff Marsac continued, "Aramis, you were there. You saw the butchered bodies."

D'Artagnan turned around; anger at the scruffy man bubbling to the surface. How _dare_ he try to use the deaths of those Musketeers to try and sway Aramis? It obviously still affected Aramis greatly to think of his dead friends and it was cruel of Marsac to try and use that to his advantage.

Before he could get a word out Aramis swiftly rounded on the man himself- his eyes dark and stormy- and hissed, "You don't need to remind me."

He quickly collected himself and shook his head, "Athos is right, there is no proof."

Marsac was disbelieving at the medic's words, "Don't you want revenge?!"

"I want _justice_." Aramis' tone was firm and his gaze was sharp, daring the blonde to say anything further.

"This is the Captain we're talking about."

Aramis inclined his head at Porthos, "Which is why we owe it to him to clear his name."

D'Artagnan gazed at Aramis, observing the tension written plainly across his face, and sighed, "So really we'd be doing him a favor? Let's hope he sees it that way..."

Marsac pointed at him and said dismissively, "This is none of your business. You're not even a Musketeer!"

The young man chuckled, "Apparently neither are you."

The former Musketeer's eyes became wild at his words and he charged at the young Gascon with a snarl. The savage man managed to land a hit on d'Artagnan's cheek before Porthos got a hold of him and roughly shoved him back towards Aramis, growling dangerously, "Don't try that again... Not if you enjoy breathing."

Aramis was torn between going to check on d'Artagnan who was now being helped up by Athos while Porthos hovered over him protectively and trying to calm his friend. Athos gently brushed some dirt from d'Artagnan's clothes and brushed back his dark hair to check his face, a frown pulling at his lips at whatever it was that he found there. Porthos stood stock still and never took his eyes off of Marsac in case the blonde tried to attack the young man again but he too raised a hand to gently touch the boy's waist in a silent question if he was alright. The tender smile and a soft murmur of what was probably a reassurance had both men relaxing slightly but their furious gazes never left the rogue Musketeer. In any other situation Aramis would have been right beside the others checking on the sweet, fierce Gascon farm boy who had so quickly taken up a large space in their hearts but with his former brother there...

He laid a hand on his Marsac's shoulder for a moment as he gazed at his fellow Musketeers and their young lover-who was now sporting a bright red mark on his right cheek that would undoubtedly turn into a spectacular bruise in the next few hours- and he sighed heavily before declaring, "I have to know the truth."

Athos sighed, resigned, "I don't believe Treville is guilty and I never will, but we won't stand in your way. Do what you have to do."

Some of the tension fell from Aramis' shoulders just as Athos quickly added, "One condition: Marsac stays under house arrest."

Porthos grabbed said man by the arm quite roughly and pulled him so that he was between himself and d'Artagnan who wore a playful smile at the treatment of the man by his large lover. Porthos shot the Gascon a warm grin when he noticed the boy's appreciative expression and began to tug Marsac down the street after Athos.

Before they got too far Aramis called after them, "During the massacre I wounded their leader, a cut across the back. If it was the Duke who led the attack, he'll still carry the scar."

Athos moved back towards him and quietly said one last thing, "Aramis, before you go down this road, ask yourself one question. If it is true, what then?"

The older man turned to catch up with the others and he caught d'Artagnan looking back at them with troubled eyes. He sighed internally; he hoped that they resolved this matter quickly, he didn't want to burden their young lover with all this worry over them much longer.

* * *

After parting from Aramis Athos and Porthos had to leave as well, they had guard duty for the Duke in the morning and they needed to get to the palace bright and early. They accompanied d'Artagnan and Marsac back to the Bonacieuxs' house, Athos leaving Marsac in an alcove to the side of the door in order to go and speak with d'Artagnan before they had to leave.

"Offer our apologies to Madame Bonacieux for the trouble but this is probably the safest place to keep him, it's unlikely anyone here would recognize him if they happened to catch a glimpse of him."

Their young lover nodded quietly, looking troubled at the reminder of Constance and her earlier decree that he was no longer welcome in her home.

Porthos put a comforting arm around the boy's waist, "If she hasn't changed her mind you can come stay at mine for the night, alright love?"

The young man smiled softly at Porthos and leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek, earning him a warm smile and a gentle squeeze from one powerful arm.

"Thank you Porthos."

After giving Athos a goodbye kiss as well d'Artagnan escorted Marsac back into the Bonacieuxs' house and secured him in the small room next to his before entering his own room in order to pack up his things as Constance had requested.

As he shoved the last of his clothes into his rucksack Constance appeared in the doorway.

"What are you doing?"

He barely paused, "I'm packing my things, like you told me to."

The redhead scoffed, "I've done so much for you and yet you still don't trust me?"

"I made a promise to Aramis."

"I know that you're his lover d'Artagnan but I'm your friend and you lied to me. You left me here alone with a deserter and a murderer without a word of warning!"

The Gascon sighed, guilt and shame welling up inside his chest, "And for that I am truly sorry. You know that you're my best friend Constance; I did not wish any harm upon you by leaving him here. He was a Musketeer; I don't think he has it in him to attack such a kind and caring woman as yourself."

He shuffled his feet anxiously, "I really am sorry. I promise I won't make the same mistake next time."

Dark eyebrows shot up, "Next time?"

"Well... I was hoping that you might change your mind." He gave her a small smile which grew wider when he saw her lips twitch in restrained amusement.

She quickly schooled her expression, "Well... we do need the money."

"And I promise that I'll never lie to you again."

She nodded seriously and raised a finger at him, "I'd hope not or next time you'll be out on your ear."

He looked at the ground again but smiled a little when she added teasingly, "And I'd miss having you around. I need someone to talk to besides merchants, the maids and Jacques' assistants."

He bowed playfully, "I'm here to please, milady."

As he straightened back up he noticed Constance's gaze drift down to his cheek where Marsac had struck him earlier. It actually hurt quite a bit and he was sure it was very obvious that he had been punched but he was grateful when his friend chose not to comment on it. She gave him a look though that promised if she ever found out who gave him that bruise they would be getting an earful from her. He smiled back at her gratefully, once again in awe that he had such a high-spirited, fiercely protective woman as his best friend.

Constance retreated downstairs with a small smile on her face leaving d'Artagnan to the task of unpacking his things and getting his room back in order. He was relieved that Constance had forgiven him and swore to himself that he wouldn't betray her trust again. Her friendship meant far too much to him to risk it a second time.

* * *

The next time d'Artagnan met up with his lovers he was feeling quite a bit lighter due to him patching things up with Constance. The feeling was rather short-lived though, once he learned of what the older men had been up to; he was also troubled when he noted Porthos' absence even though he and Athos were supposed to have been together this morning.

They left the garrison for the Bonacieuxs' house and once there the three of them stood around a table in the room d'Artagnan had left Marsac in overnight while the rogue Musketeer sat on a stool in the corner where they could keep an eye on him, hands still tied in front of him for security's sake.

Athos informed d'Artagnan and Aramis about the duel in the palace and his subsequent confrontation with the Duke that morning, "He took his shirt off just as I was about to leave. He had the scar just like you said, right across his back."

Aramis nodded, "Anything else?"

"The Duke could tell that I knew something, I'm not sure what he thinks I know but he was quite vocal about having Musketeers as his guard when Porthos and I arrived at the palace."

D'Artagnan frowned, "But we still don't know how the Captain's involved in this- if he's even involved at all."

Aramis took his hat off and sighed heavily, "The Captain keeps a record of every Musketeer campaign since the regiment was founded, all except that one night. There's no documents for the mission in Savoy, no maps, no letters, nothing _at all._ Coincidence?"

"Perhaps you just didn't find them."

Aramis' voice softened for his young lover, "His filing is meticulous. There's nothing there. The documents have either been removed or destroyed."

The Gascon shook his head uncertainly, "I'm still confident there's a perfectly good explanation."

From the stool Marsac scoffed, "I'd be happy to hear it."

Athos ignored the man, something that was becoming increasingly easy the more time he had to spend around the man, "I admit it's troubling, but I agree with d'Artagnan."

Aramis began to grow frustrated, "So you're content to do nothing? How much evidence do you need that something is badly wrong? What does it take to make you act?"

"I will never believe the Captain is a traitor."

The Spaniard huffed, "You think _I_ want to?"

D'Artagnan was beginning to grow uncomfortable, usually when his lovers argued it was over silly little things that would pass as soon as the next topic of conversation came up. Very rarely did they ever get into arguments that lasted longer than a few minutes. This was one of those rare instances. He could see that Aramis was growing desperate to learn the truth and that it was beginning to weigh heavily on his mind. And Athos was very clearly beginning to grow frustrated with this situation as well, displeased with the continued accusations against the Captain.

Seeing the growing discord Marsac quickly stood from the stool, "Let me help. I give you my word as a gentleman that I won't try to leave."

At the sceptical looks from both d'Artagnan and Athos the former Musketeers turned back to the sharpshooter, "Aramis, tell them. You know me."

Aramis looked torn, "I used to."

"Every word I have told you has turned out to be the truth. Why would I deceive you now?"

With a pleading glance from Aramis Athos sighed and cut the bonds from Marsac's wrists.

D'Artagnan sighed heavily at the action as an uneasy feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. Something told him that this was going to get much worse before it got better.

* * *

They met back up with Porthos near the garrison much to d'Artagnan's delight and relief as he greeted their larger lover with a warm kiss, even as rain barrelled down upon them. He could tell that something had happened though when the dark man gave him merely an absent squeeze and half-heartedly returned the kiss.

Following Athos' lead the four soldiers entered the garrison and climbed the steps to wait under the canopy for Treville's return. There was a tense silence amongst them, the sound of the pouring rain filling the gap where warm conversation usually lingered.

They didn't have to wait too long before Treville rode into the courtyard and passed his horse off to a stable hand.

He arched a single eyebrow at them, "What's this?"

"We have a question to ask you."

The Captain frowned at Athos' response, "Why aren't you with the Duke?"

Aramis quickly cut to the chase, his patience worn thin, "Five years ago, you ordered a troop of Musketeers into Savoy, on a training exercise. They were all killed, all except Marsac and myself."

Treville nodded, "I remember."

Porthos glanced sidelong at the Captain, "At the time, the attack was blamed on a Spanish raiding party."

The older Gascon's eyes narrowed, "What do you mean, _at the time?_ "

"We have information that it was actually the Duke of Savoy who was responsible." D'Artagnan frowned as he said the words; he really wished that they hadn't had to corner the Captain like this in order to get the answers they were looking for.

Aramis advanced on the older man, "You don't seem surprised."

"The only thing that surprises me is your dereliction of duty. Get back to your posts before I lose my temper." Treville's tone became hard, in the familiar way that it did when he was becoming irritated, and he swiftly brushed past them to enter his office.

Aramis stalked into the room after him as Athos called out, "Did you know it was the Duke?"

"I am not accountable to you."

"But you are to the men who died." Aramis' voice was insistent.

"Be careful, Aramis. You're in dangerous territory."

Porthos huffed, "Not as dangerous as Savoy was for your men."

"I'm going to put this down to a fit of temporary insanity. Leave now and we'll say no more about it." The Captain's tone told d'Artagnan that this was truly the last straw but, like his lovers, he detected that Treville was trying to cover something up now.

"How did our orders get into the Duke's hands? Who told him where we were camping? Why did he think we were coming to attack him?"

"Get out!"

Aramis' voice filled with pain and anger, "Who killed those Musketeers?! And why?"

A loud crack of thunder filled the air, making d'Artagnan startle slightly in addition to the tension in the room. But his gaze remained fixed on the Captain; he wanted answers just as much as Aramis and their other lovers did.

He wanted to know the truth.

Treville's expression grew apprehensive, "Who have you been speaking to?"

Athos stepped forward, "It doesn't matter. What matters is the truth."

"Leave now and I'll spare you a court martial, and that's giving you a choice you don't deserve."

Aramis bristled at the threat but Athos held him back, "One last time. Will you answer our questions?"

D'Artagnan hated seeing the Captain look like this, cornered and ruffled. The older Gascon had been kind to him since his arrival in Paris and had always been honest with them but now...

"No. I will not."

* * *

After leaving the Captain's quarters Aramis was in a state of quiet fury. Their confrontation with the Captain had left the sharpshooter certain that Treville had played a key role in what had happened in Savoy five years ago. Athos and the others insisted that there had to be another explanation: the Captain wasn't a man that would callously send twenty Musketeers to their death. Aramis refused to listen to their reasoning and stormed off into the rain, declaring that he wasn't going to sit idle any longer.

D'Artagnan watched him go sadly, his heart aching for Aramis and the situation they were in now.

He bid Porthos and Athos goodbye, receiving light affectionate touches as he passed them, and quickly rushed through the rain back to the Bonacieuxs' house only to find an irritated and possibly drunk Marsac in the midst of forcing himself upon Constance.

The young man swiftly launched himself at the blonde, repaying him the punch from the day before, and growled, "You touch her again and I'll kill you."

From the floor Marsac pleaded, "My apologies. I used to be a man of honor, a Musketeer. Now I... Now I hardly recognize myself."

Casting the man a disgusted glare D'Artagnan turned back to Constance, laying a comforting hand on her arm, "Are you alright?"

She nodded, adjusting her dress from its dishevelled state.

Marsac got to his feet unsteadily, "I beg your forgiveness. I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

D'Artagnan shoved him in the direction of his bedroom and proceeded to tie him up tightly before going back to the kitchen to check on his friend.

He found Constance at the sink, washing dishes as though nothing had happened, "I've tied him up. He won't bother you again."

The redhead grinned a little, "It's just as well you came when you did. I might have hurt him."

The young man chuckled ruefully, "I seem to keep bringing you trouble. Is there anything I can do to make amends?"

She paused thoughtfully for a moment but then quietly replied, "There is one thing. But you can't tell anyone, not even my husband. Not yet anyway."

"Of course."

She crossed the kitchen and leaned in close to whisper conspiratorially, "Teach me how to shoot. Sword fighting as well; I've always liked the look of it."

He laughed and nodded eagerly in agreement, it would surely be an adventure teaching Constance how to shoot and use a sword. Much more fun than any of the other events he'd put her through since his arrival. Plus this way he could be assured that his friend would be able to properly defend herself if she found herself in another troublesome, potentially dangerous situation.

She giggled happily and gave him a friendly kiss on the cheek before going back to her washing.

D'Artagnan rolled his eyes skyward; he'd grown close to an abundance of unique people since his arrival in Paris. Aramis, Athos and Porthos' faces all popped into his mind at the thought and his heart swelled, a loving smile drifting across his lips.

No matter the hardships he'd face there was no doubt in his mind that he'd never regret the decision to come to Paris, not for a single second.

* * *

A short while later d'Artagnan headed back to the garrison in order to wait for his lovers in hopes to speak to them about their next move regarding the Duke. Constance had left to run some errands that would take her all afternoon, so he didn't have to worry about his friend being left alone with Marsac again. He sat in the courtyard and had some bread and wine and- much sooner than he had expected- Athos and Porthos approached his table.

He arched an eyebrow at them, "Shouldn't you two be with the Duke?"

"Our services are no longer required."

Porthos scoffed at Athos' words, "That's for sure. We need to speak to the Captain."

The older man cast him a dry look, "I need a drink."

The sound of hooves against stone prevented him from getting his desired drink as a person in a dark green cloak rode into the garrison. They glanced at each other confusedly at the unexpected arrival. The rider hopped down from atop the animal and when they pushed their hood back the men found themselves bowing immediately.

It was the Duchess of Savoy.

The woman approached them quickly, "I have no time for explanations. There's an important prisoner being held here somewhere in Paris."

"You mean Cluzet?"

She shot Athos an appraising look, "You know him?"

Porthos glanced at Athos and cautiously replied, "Not exactly but we know where to find him."

"The Duke is on his way to find him right now. For the sake of France, he must not discover him. Many lives are at stake, including my own."

"We can't stop the Duke entering the prison."

A mischievous sparkle appeared in Porthos' eyes, "Yeah, but that doesn't mean he had to find him inside."

* * *

With no time for further explanation, the Duchess and the three soldiers quickly raced to the prison, praying that they would beat the Duke there. Upon reaching the building d'Artagnan attracted the attention of the guard and drew him around a corner to run right into Athos and Porthos who both had their pistols out and pointed directly at the scrawny man's face.

They swiftly and quietly entered the building, ordering the man to show them the way to the cell they were looking for. Once they reached it they had the man unlock it and open the door, Porthos ordering the bespectacled man- obviously Cluzet- inside to be quiet.

When the Duchess entered the room the man's lip curled angrily, "You traitor!"

Porthos grabbed the man by the scruff of his neck while the Duchess knocked out the whimpering guard, causing the large man to snicker.

D'Artagnan ushered in their faux Cluzet and Athos handed him the guard's cloak as well as the keys, "Put this on."

"Cluzet! Cluzet!"

Their eyes widened at the sound of the Duke's rapidly approaching voice and Athos quickly tossed d'Artagnan the guard's hat to cover his face.

The Duke barely paused when he reached the door and growled for him to open the door, the Cardinal's protests swiftly dying off when he recognized d'Artagnan's face underneath the rim of the hat.

The young man's lips twitched in amusement as he listened to the reaction of the Duke upon realizing that the man in the cell was not, in fact, Cluzet. After the Cardinal's prompting about the treaty the men exited the room, Richelieu inclining his head towards the young man as he passed which d'Artagnan subtly returned.

Once they were far enough down the hall he took the hat off and went over to where the others were hiding around the corner.

Porthos looked him up and down, "Nice look. Better with the hat."

D'Artagnan laughed softly at the compliment and Porthos slightly readjusted his grip on the struggling Cluzet, "Shh. Good boy."

They left for the garrison after placing Cluzet back in his cell and parted with the Duchess upon leaving the prison so that there was no chance anyone would see her accompanying the Musketeers there. They planned on bringing back happy news of preventing a war from breaking out but instead they were greeted with a tragic sight.

They rode into the courtyard and found Aramis standing off to the side next to the Captain, both of them staring down at Marsac's dead body.

D'Artagnan leapt off his horse and rushed to their sides, "Aramis! What happened? Are you alright?"

The older man turned to look at him and d'Artagnan's heart throbbed at the blatant agony and grief in his dark gaze. It was then that he realized: whatever the situation had been, Aramis had been the one who'd had to kill Marsac.

"Oh Aramis..."

The sharpshooter inhaled shakily and pulled d'Artagnan against his chest, pressing his face into the crook of his young lover's neck. D'Artagnan brought his arms up and held Aramis close as the man began to shake, no tears fell but his pain was palpable.

Athos and Porthos stood next to them and watched as the boy comforted Aramis, their faces expressing the depth of their sorrow for their friend and lover. When he finally pulled away from the comfort of d'Artagnan's arms both gave him a long hug, whispering their apologies into his ear.

Athos placed a firm hand on the younger man's shoulder, "We are all staying at mine tonight."

The other three nodded in agreement, none of them wanted to be separated after their long and trying day. And d'Artagnan, Athos and Porthos did not want to leave Aramis tonight to suffer alone for the loss of his old friend.

Before they could leave they had to report to the Captain and tell him about the events at the prison. When they were finished Treville informed them about the truth behind what had happened at Savoy, he confirmed their suspicions that the Duchess was in fact a spy for France in Savoy and that Treville had been misled when he'd let slip the location of the Musketeers' training exercise to the Duke. The slaughter of the men had been the Cardinal's fault for allowing the Duke to believe they had been going to assassinate him. This revelation didn't come as a surprise to any of them, not even d'Artagnan. His lovers had been shrewd in warning him of the Cardinal's deadly games and that he saw the Musketeers as nothing more than a nuisance, making him promise to avoid the man whenever possible.

Once everything was finished the four men stopped to get some food and drink in them before heading back to Athos' lodgings where they swiftly divested themselves of their clothes until they were left standing in their breeches.

D'Artagnan climbed onto Athos' thankfully large bed and gestured for his lovers to join him. Aramis went first, pressing himself against the boy's front and burying his face in his dark hair. Porthos followed him, rounding to the other side of the bed so that he could lay with his broad chest close against d'Artagnan's back and placed one large arm over him and their medic. Athos entered last after blowing out the candle on the bedside table, mirroring Porthos' position against Aramis' back.

In the quiet d'Artagnan's voice was soft and gentle, "Aramis, I'm sorry about Marsac. He was a good man once, I'm sure he's at peace now that he knows what happened to your friends."

Aramis' lips twitched against his hair, "Thank you, _cariño_."

"We're sorry that we weren't there when it happened. If we'd known..." Porthos' gruff voice rumbled against d'Artagnan's back and the larger man ran an apologetic hand down Aramis' exposed flank under the blanket.

"There's nothing you could have done. Marsac wanted it to end. This way he can be at peace."

Athos squeezed Aramis' arm lightly, "He died as a Musketeer should, fighting for his brothers."

Soon the three Musketeers and their young love passed into sleep. Aramis did not have nightmares that night while being surrounded by the men he loved and who loved him and in the morning he woke with a small grin on his lips as he kissed d'Artagnan awake. Despite the loss of his friend he felt lighter in the knowledge that Marsac was no longer tormented by the events in Savoy and that he'd finally learned the truth of what had happened that night five years ago.

One after another the lovers woke up and exchanged gentle affections in the warmth of Athos' bed. Before long they had to force themselves up and out of bed in order to go back to their own lodgings and get fresh clothes. They were to attend the send-off of the Duke and Duchess and their son and needed to fix themselves up before going to the palace.

Aramis escorted d'Artagnan back to the Bonacieuxs' house after setting a time to meet with the others at the palace. The pair walked in companionable silence, Aramis' hand lingering unobtrusively on the younger man's waist.

When they reached the courtyard in front of the house d'Artagnan pulled Aramis over to the well where they sat down on the edge. He took the older man's hand gently in his own and leaned into his shoulder, "Thank you for walking me home, Aramis."

"Think nothing of it, _cariño_. It was my pleasure."

The Gascon smiled at Aramis' affectionate tone and nuzzled into the man a little more. The courtyard was deserted this early in the morning so they could afford to be openly affectionate, not that they weren't most of the time anyways.

The sat in comfortable silence watching the first rays of dawn begging to peak over the houses, but eventually d'Artagnan broke it, voice soft and timid, "Aramis?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you alright?"

The sharpshooter sighed and took a long pause before answering d'Artagnan's question, "Marsac's spirit died five years ago after he had to watch our friends get murdered by the Duke. It just took his body longer to catch up. It hurts that I had to be the one who finally put him to rest but I know that he is at peace now. He no longer has to live while suffering endlessly from his memories."

D'Artagnan clung to Aramis a little more, hoping to provide him some comfort, "Where will he be buried?"

"The Captain said that he deserved to be buried with the men he died trying to avenge. It will be an unmarked grave of course but it's where he belongs. In the end, he was a Musketeer. Treville and I will be going there after the Duke and Duchess leave."

The young man lifted his head and pulled Aramis down into a long, sweet kiss. The older man sighed happily and quickly deepened the kiss, relishing the taste of his young lover after so many hard days. When they pulled apart the young man was deliciously flushed and panting slightly, just as Aramis always liked him.

"We- We'll never leave you alone, Aramis. Not me, Athos or Porthos. We love you so much."

Aramis smiled softly and pressed a tender kiss to the boy's forehead, "I know d'Artagnan. You have no idea how much that means to me. And I love the three of you with every piece of my heart."

They kissed again, both sorely wishing that Athos and Porthos were with them to share this moment, but eventually had to part before they could be late to the procession.

Aramis kissed the back of d'Artagnan's hand, "Remember we're meeting in front of the doors near the gardens. I'll see you soon, darling."

The young man smiled and waved after his lover as he dashed out of the courtyard before heading inside to get cleaned up, bidding Constance a good morning when he passed by the kitchen. He studiously ignored the knowing smile on his best friend's face.

It would take a while before Aramis would be totally back to normal but he would get there. He now knew the truth of what happened to his friends and could finally put the issue to rest along with his old friend. And he, Athos and Porthos would be there for him every step of the way, giving him a shoulder to lean on whenever he needed it and showing him just how much he was loved.

Like the Musketeer motto said, "All for one and one for all."

* * *

 **And that's all for now! Oh and just to clarify** _ **"cariño"**_ **is a Spanish term of endearment translating to something like "sweetheart" or "darling". I wanted to add it in just because I think it's cute for Aramis to call d'Artagnan a pet name in Spanish.**

 **Maybe I'll do more Musketeers fics in the future if you guys like this one (I am particularly fond of making AUs for my favorite characters) but we'll see. Thanks to everyone who reads, reviews, follows or faves this; I very much appreciate it! :D**


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